


Kyle, the Pageant King.

by MJJslilgrl



Category: South Park
Genre: Basketball, Contests, Kyle Broflovski - Freeform, Stan Marsh - Freeform, child beauty pageants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13756974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MJJslilgrl/pseuds/MJJslilgrl
Summary: After one too many people comment on her son's good looks, Sheila decides to put that theory to the test and enters Kyle in a beauty pageant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! This is my very first South Park story. I really hope you enjoy it.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own South Park; the wonderful Matt and Trey do.

 

Every time they went out, Sheila Broflovski received the same comments over and over again, directed towards her eldest son, Kyle.

“What an adorable little boy!”

“Such lovely eyes.”

“Can I just say, you have a very handsome son.”

“Beautiful boy; just beautiful.” No matter how many times Sheila heard words like that, she swelled with pride. Of course, she thought her son was beautiful, with his vivid red curls, his emerald green eyes and his smooth, pale skin, but she was his mother. Every parent felt the same about their children, but to have other people acknowledge her child meant that she was not alone with her thoughts, she was not biased. Her son really was good looking.

Kyle himself seemed slightly embarrassed of all the attention he received, and tended to only politely smile at the adults who praised him. He still didn't have much self-esteem after that list incident. Even though it had been proven that the list was fake, it had really knocked the boy's confidence.

The Broflovski family were shopping at a local mall just outside of South Park one cold January afternoon and were frequently stopped by strangers who complimented the eight-year-old boy. Sheila beamed proudly and one little old lady even asked if Kyle was a child model and then, when she learned that he was not, suggested that he should be one.

The fact that that little old woman thought her son good looking enough to grace magazine covers made Sheila want to burst. And that was where she first thought of the idea.

“Kyle, how would you feel if I entered you in a beauty pageant?” she asked as they were driving back to South Park.

“A what?” to say that Kyle looked disgusted would be an understatement.

“A beauty pageant, bubbe; a chance for everyone to see how handsome you are.”

“No.” Sheila eyed her son in the rear view mirror.

“Kyle, this could be good for you! You'd be able to get up on stage and show off. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“Not really.”

“Sheila, if he doesn't want to -” Gerald began but was quickly cut off by his domineering wife.

“Oh, Gerald, I have a feeling that he would really enjoy it!”

“I don't think I would. Besides, I don't think they even do pageants for boys', Ma,” Kyle was picturing countless little girls in frilly dresses and heavy makeup performing their perfectly choreographed dance routines. It was not something he wanted to be a part of.

“I'm sure they do; I'll look it up when we get home.”

True to her word, Sheila was on the computer as soon as the family arrived home and had soon called Kyle into the room, a look of triumph on her face. “There are pageants for boys, and there's one being held in Denver next month.”

“Aw, Ma, I really don't -”

“I really think you should, bubbe. Just to at least try it. I think you'll have a lot of fun. Please, just do it this once, and if you don't like it, then you won't have to do any more, okay?”

“... Okay, but just once.” Truthfully, Kyle couldn't see a way out of it, and it was just the one pageant. How bad could it be?

“Oh, good! I'll register you right now!” Sheila beamed as she turned her attention back to the computer.

As soon as he had left the room, Kyle rolled his eyes. He didn't want to compete, but he knew he had no choice; once his mother got an idea into her head, she could seldom be talked out of it. So, seeing as how there was nothing he could do, he settled down on the sofa to watch “Terrence and Phillip.”

A few hours later, he was called into the garage by his mother and upon entering, he found masking tape in the shapes of 'x's in the shape of a 't' on the floor.

“What's this?” he asked, stepping further into the room.

“Right, I've registered you. 'Little Miss and Mini Mr Colorado'. You're going to be competing in three different categories; beauty, talent and casual wear and I've entered you in all of the optional categories; most photogenic, best dressed and best personality. I'll sort out all your clothes. You need to practise.” Kyle blanched.

“Practise what?”

“Your walk, your moves, your smile; everything. Don't worry,” she added, looking at her son's face. “I'll show you what to do; I've been researching. First, they'll call out your name and then you go to your first 'X',” she demonstrated, walking gracefully and standing perfectly poised on the mark. Kyle bit back a grin as Sheila smiled at the non-existent judges. “When you get to the first X, you need to spot the judges and make eye contact with them. With the girls, it's all very serious, but the boys get to loosen up a bit. Just smile and show your personality.

“The judges will usually be here at the end of the catwalk. Now you walk over to the second X and then turn and go down to the third X, which will be at the end of the runway. There, you turn, to let the judges see your outfit, strike a pose before making your way back to your second X. Then go to the fourth X, do another turn, strike another pose and then walk off stage. Got that?”

“Uhh...” Kyle hadn't understood half of what Sheila had said. She had certainly done her research and he privately thought she was going a little overboard for one pageant.

“Never mind, bubbe. You'll pick it up. Now, get over there; I'll be the emcee and when I introduce you, go to your first X.” Sheila sat down in a chair as Kyle faithfully obeyed her orders. “Okay, presenting contestant number one, Kyle Broflovski! No, wait. What are you doing?” she barked before Kyle had even taken two steps on the makeshift stage.

“I'm walking.”

“You need to smile as soon as you step on stage! Start again.” Sighing, Kyle obliged. “Remember to spot your judges. Wait, why are you looking at the floor?”

“I'm looking for the X.”

“Don't look at the floor; you need to be looking at the judges!”

“How am I supposed to see the X?”

“You can still look at it; just don't look directly at it. Look out of the corner of your eye. Do it again. Spot your judges. Good! Okay, now go over to your second X. Quickly, quickly! Pause for a moment. Now down the runway. Stop right there. Good! Turn around. No, slower! Do it again. Slowly, smoothly, _slowly, smoothly”_

“How do I turn smoothly?” Kyle was beginning to get frustrated.

“Cross your right foot over your left and turn on the balls of your feet. Nicely! Now strike a pose. Well, don't just stand there. I know; blow the judges a kiss!”

“What?” Kyle pulled a face.

“Blow them a kiss.”

“Ma, I'm not blowing the judges a kiss.”

“Well, you have to do something – unless you'd rather wink at them?” she suggested and Kyle balked.

“Alright, I'll blow them a kiss,” the boy relented and Sheila smiled.

“Okay, now, back up the runway,” she ordered, “back to the second X and pause. Pause! Turn around to face your judges. Smile, smile. Okay, now over to your fourth X. That's it. Turn around again. Slower, smoother. Good! Now put your hands on your hips, turn to the left and look back over at the judges and smile.. good. Wave and then walk off the stage. Whew!” Sheila flopped into her chair. “That was good for a first try,” she said as Kyle approached her. “There is a time limit; you only have a minute and a half to do that on stage.”

“How'd you know all this?”

“I called up the organiser, because I wasn't too sure. So we need to get it right.”

“Does it really matter? I mean, it's just a beauty pageant.”

“Well, of course it matters, Kyle!” Sheila straightened up. “Don't you want to win? It wasn't cheap to enter you in this, and I want you to do well. I only want what's best for you, bubbe.”

“I know you do, Ma.”

“Good. Now let's do it again, and this time, smile the whole way through,” she reminded him as Kyle walked back over to the 'stage.'

“But it hurts my face after a while,” he complained.

“Practise makes perfect, bubbe.”

 

* * *

 

Every day the following week, as soon as Kyle returned from school and had finished his homework, Sheila took him into the garage where she put him through his paces, practising his walks, his poses, his smile, all with music. Kyle had to practise for at least an hour everyday, or until Sheila deemed his performance okay.

She was a woman on a mission; determined for her son to win so it could be proven that he was indeed a very good-looking child, and the only way Kyle would win would be to know what was expected of him and to surpass that. With all his practising, Sheila didn't see how Kyle could not win.

She had already picked out his clothes; for formal wear, Kyle would wear his Sunday suit. For casual wear, he was going to wear black slacks and a white dress shirt (for this, Kyle would roll up his shirt sleeves in an effort to appear more casual and relaxed; Sheila thought it was sweet and she knew the judges would agree), and for his talent, Kyle would demonstrate his basketball skills and would wear his school basketball uniform.

Kyle didn't bother even trying to fight his mother as she made him practise his walks and talent routine over and over again. She did want what was best for him, after all, and it was only for this one pageant.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks later, on a Friday afternoon, they were in the car, costumes stored carefully in the boot, on their way to Denver; the two-day competition was to be held the following day. Gerald was staying at home to look after Ike.

“Ma?” asked Kyle from the back seat. “Why are we going today if the pageant is tomorrow?” Kyle had barely stepped through the front door as he returned from school before Sheila had bundled him into the car.

“To get in some practise on the stage, and also we'll need to be up early to fix your hair.”

“Can't we just leave it the way it is?”

“Definitely not.” Kyle did not press the subject and instead stared out of the window until they arrived at the hotel an hour later where the pageant was being held. Kyle saw a large poster promoting the pageant just outside of the doors.

It was a fairly nice hotel, Kyle thought, looking up at the white brick building as he followed his mother through the foyer as she carried the suitcases. The floors were nicely carpeted, a large table was in the centre with a vase of flowers and some magazines resting on it, surrounded by squashy chairs. A few sofas rested along the walls and the receptionist was seated behind a mahogany desk.

There were dozens of parents laden down with luggage with little girls and a few little boys queueing up to sign in and Sheila and Kyle got in line. Many of the mothers were laden down with suitcases. Some of the children were running around the lobby, squealing with laughter, a few of them with their hair already in rollers.

When they had finally registered, the two Broflovskis made their way up to their hotel room. It was a decent sized room with bare creamy walls, two single beds decorated in garish floral bedspreads, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a small cabinet with a little television on it. A door to their immediate right opened into a bathroom. As Sheila unpacked and hung Kyle's clothes up, Kyle went over to the window and examined the view; the hotel car park and the motorway beyond that.

“Shall we go see where the pageant is being held?” suggested Sheila, having carefully hung up Kyle's clothing in the wardrobe.

“Sure,” Kyle agreed and they headed downstairs from their room on the fourth floor. When they reached the foyer, they followed the mothers and their children to a large, airy ballroom, the doors of which were plastered with posters and flyers advertising second hand pageant clothes, spray tan services, seamstresses and the like.

There was a stage erected at one end of the room, upon which one little girl was already practising under the watchful eye of her mother.

There were around sixty folding chairs facing the stage, where other participants were sitting, waiting for their turn.

Kyle and Sheila waited patiently as child after child had their turn on the stage. Kyle only wanted to wait until everyone was gone, or at least until a few boys' had gone up there; so far, there had been only girls.

After the girls' had successfully completed their routine, they and their parents left the room, to Kyle's relief, although a few stayed to check out the opposing competition.

When everybody else had had their turn, Kyle reluctantly made his way to the stage and ran through his beauty walk while Sheila watched carefully. The runway was a lot longer than he expected it to be. There was a glittering board with the words 'Little Miss and Mini Mr Colorado 2015” on it resting on the back wall, made from a curtain where the contestants would enter from the side, with more curtains either side of the stage, blocking the back room from view.

“Remember to take your time,” she reminded and Kyle nodded, concentrating on turning smoothly. When he had finished, they went back to their room to get some sleep, even though it was only eight

p.m.; Sheila said they that would need to be refreshed for the competition.

Kyle lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, dreading the following day. It wasn't stage fright that was bothering him; it was the fact that he was going to have to have complete strangers judge him on his looks. Kyle had always hated the concept of beauty pageants and now that he was competing in one, he hated them even more.

The boy tried to console himself that by Monday, it would all be over and done with and he would never have to do another one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After one too many people comment on her son's good looks, Sheila decides to put that theory to the test and enters Kyle in a beauty pageant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Extremely early the next morning, both Sheila and Kyle were awake, with Sheila attempting to tame her son's wild curls. She had already used copious amounts of gel and water, but no matter what she did, she couldn't get his hair to flatten.

“I think it'd be alright if I just went up like this,” Kyle suggested, tired of being pulled to and fro.

“Nonsense, bubbe; we need to have you looking like we actually put some effort in,” Sheila grunted, pulling the comb through Kyle's hair.

Eventually, she managed to smooth and straighten the curly locks and had arranged it into a coiffed style. “There!” she grinned triumphantly, fixing the hair into place with what appeared to be an entire can of hairspray.

They arrived at the ballroom in good time and Kyle, now wearing his pristine suit, looked around as his mother steered him through the room. The emcee was playing dance music and encouraging people to dance while they waited for the pageant to begin.

“You have a line-up with your group before you go on stage,” Sheila told him. “You just walk on in order, smile for a bit and then walk back off. There are three other boys' in your age group, and you'll go on in numerical order.” Kyle looked down at the number that was attached to his right jacket pocket; a large '3' was emblazoned on it.

There were children of all ages and both genders, but mostly little girls in their perfect outfits scattered throughout the room, along with their parents.

Kyle and Sheila took a seat at the back and watched silently as the pageant began and progressed. The first round of competition was the 'beauty' or 'formal wear' round. The contestants would simply model their best dress or tux on the stage, being sure to turn on the correct places and smile at the judges.

The children competed in age order, so the babies had their turn first, their mothers carrying them on stage to show them off as the emcee described the children to the judges, two men and two women who were sitting at a table at the end of the catwalk. First the boys' age group went up and then the girls.

“Lacey has golden blonde hair and big blue eyes,” said the emcee as the eight-month-old was paraded around on stage in a pink frilly dress by her beaming mother. “She enjoys sleeping and playing with her mommy. Her ambition... is to grow up.”

After all of the baby girls and boys' were finished, the pageant then moved on the three-to-four age group; this was the age where the children were expected to go on stage by themselves, model and show a bit of their personality. There were no boys' in this category. The little girls glided down the runway in their glittering glitzy dresses as their mothers stood behind the judges' table, cheering them on and guiding them in what to do next. After every contestant, Kyle and his mother applauded politely.

As the five-to-six year olds battled it out, Kyle yawned and rested his head in his hands. He was so bored; how could anyone enjoy this?

As soon as a contestant had finished on stage, they were immediately whisked off to change clothes for the next category. By the the time the seven-to-nine year old group – Kyle's age group - was getting ready, the mothers of the baby contestants had returned, their children in a completely different outfit.

Sheila took Kyle backstage to the boys' area where four other little boys were waiting.

“Remember to keep your head up and smile,” she instructed. “Good luck, bubbe,” she and the other mothers then left to watch their children compete.

“Is this your first one?” a perfectly coiffed little boy asked Kyle. He was quite tanned with deep blue eyes and golden hair.

“Yeah, my mom wanted me to do it,” Kyle admitted.

“Does she want you to win?”

“.. Yeah.”

“All our moms' want us to win. Everyone gets a trophy,” he added after a while, somewhat bitterly.

“Really? Good, then that means this is the only pageant I'll do. No offence,” Kyle added, but the boy shook his head.

“Everyone gets a prize, but everyone wants to win first place. You probably won't; you're a newbie.”

“I might.”

“Yeah, maybe,” the boy didn't look convinced.

“Either way, it'll be my last one; if I win first place, then we're done. If I don't, then I'll still have won something and then I'll tell her I don't want to do it anymore.” The boy was staring at him pityingly.

“If you win a smaller prize, you're gonna keep comin' back until you win first place. If you win first place, you're gonna keep comin' back to maintain your title.” There was an air of finality in his voice. Kyle was horrified, but he had no time to dwell because the boys' were moving toward the stage. Quickly getting in line, Kyle climbed the steps onto the stage and followed the other contestants as they lined up in the centre of the stage. Unsure of what to do, Kyle followed the other boys' lead and smiled at the audience until the emcee thanked them, which was their cue to leave.

Sheila had been stood behind the judges table during the line-up, observing her son, and had caught a few glimpses of their conversation.

“Nice hair colour on the redhead,” Sheila knew they were talking about Kyle because he was the only redhead in his group.

“A bit pale, though,” Sheila was already making plans to tan Kyle when one of the other judges piped up.

“Yeah, but it works. With his hair colour, he wouldn't look good tanned.” Sheila grinned, moving away as the first boy in Kyle's line-up was announced and he stepped on stage.

As the first and second boys' had their turns on stage, Kyle waited next to the steps, wondering what his mother would do if he just walked out. He really didn't want to do this. Before he had the chance, his name was called and Kyle stepped onto the stage, hitching his smile into place.

Kyle walked over to his first x and faced the audience, smiling awkwardly, barely remembering to keep his head up. He remembered what Sheila had said about spotting the judges and making eye contact with them, but the lights were so bright, not to mention the constant flashing of the photographer's flashbulb camera, he couldn't see _anybody,_ so he just aimed a smile at where he supposed they were. He felt incredibly silly and self-conscious on stage, and it showed; Sheila was watching him and frowning. Kyle's smile kept slipping, he wasn't showing his personality, his walk was either too fast or too slow and he didn't make eye contact with the judges.

“Kyle has red hair and green eyes,” announced the emcee as Kyle continued his routine, and made his way down the catwalk, reading off Kyle's entry form. “His hobbies include: playing with his friends, reading and helping to take care of his little brother.” They weren't really hobbies, Kyle thought, completing a turn and almost tripping over his own feet; his hobbies would include playing video games and watching “Terrence and Phillip.” Of course, Sheila wanted to make him look good. “With an ambition to be a basketball player, this is Kyle Broflovski. Thank you, Kyle!” The boy walked off stage to the sound of applause, blinking the lights out of his eyes. Sheila appeared in front of him and lead him back to his seat.

“You did okay,” she said as they walked through the ballroom. “You needed to smile more and show a bit more personality, and for goodness sake, make sure you look at the judges and turn properly!”

Kyle said nothing as he sat back down to watch the rest of his group compete. The other kids were a lot more poised and polished than him, he noted.

The boy couldn't help wishing he'd brought a book or a console to keep himself entertained. Watching the other children do their routines, Kyle zoned out, attempting to sleep with his eyes open.

After a few moments, Sheila and Kyle left the room and made their way back to the hotel room; for them, the pageant was over for the day. Tomorrow, Kyle would compete in the talent and casual wear categories and then the crowning ceremony would be held tomorrow evening.

Kyle remained silent as they entered their hotel room and immediately changed into his pyjamas and he shoved his ushanka over his hated coif. He felt quite tired and flopped onto his bed, falling asleep not long after, while Sheila hung up his suit; Kyle would wear it tomorrow evening for the crowning ceremony. She really believed he could win, she knew he would win something. Okay, Kyle was an amateur; it was obvious on stage that he wasn't polished as the rest of the contestants. As he was a boy, it wasn't that noticeable; with the girls, their hand, arm and foot placements had to be on point every time. With the boys', it wasn't that strict; they didn't have to hold their arms out just so, or have one foot placed perfectly in front of the other, it was more relaxed, but they still had to be smooth and poised.

Kyle wasn't that poised yet, especially compared to the rest of his age group, but Sheila hoped that the judges would look past that and judge him on his smile and his beauty.

Even though it was only 4:00pm, Sheila climbed into her own bed, and fell asleep, needing to get some rest before the rest of the competition.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, both Sheila and Kyle were awake, though not as early as they had been the previous day. Kyle's hair didn't need to be styled as much; as he had slept with his hat on, his hair had mostly stayed in place all night.

The first category that Kyle was going to compete in that day was casual wear. He was wearing his white dress shirt, his black slacks and his black dress shoes.

As they were a bit more familiar with the line up of events, Sheila and Kyle didn't go down to the ballroom, until the girls of Kyle's age group were competing; it meant that they didn't have to wait around so much.

Watching the little girls model their 'casual' clothes, Kyle again felt bored, but he had nothing to occupy himself with; the suitcases were full of clothes, toiletries and pageant entry forms. When he had arrived home after school on Friday, he had left his backpack on the floor in the living-room, so he couldn't even do his homework.

Before the pageant started that day, the judges reviewed several photographs of each contestant, marking them out of ten for the photogenic category. Sheila had sent them a few photos of Kyle with his entry form. The scoring from all of the categories was kept secret until the crowning ceremony which was to be held later on in the evening.

All too soon, it was time for Kyle's group line-up and Sheila led him backstage again, reminding him to keep his head up and to smile.

Just as before, Kyle lined up with the other boys' in numerical order; one of them, a slightly tanned boy with dark brown hair, was dressed similarly to him, another was wearing, high-end exquisitely tailored dungarees, while the last one was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and tan shorts. During their line-up, Kyle tried to look at the judges, but had still not gotten used to the bright lights.

When it was Kyle's turn to go on stage, he smiled after stepping on, as usual. The emcee, Mr. Smith, narrated all of the contestant's routines as they were performed.

Kyle focused on keeping his smile in place and trying not to trip over his own feet as he made his way over to his second x. As instructed, he placed one hand on his hip and tilted his head, trying not to look as awkward as he felt, smiling widely, before walking down the catwalk.

Once he reached the end, Kyle turned somewhat clumsily on the spot while rolling his sleeves up to his elbows and he looked down at them, making sure that they weren't going to fall down.

Head snapping up, Kyle quickly began to walk up the catwalk, but he remembered he wasn't supposed to yet, so he stopped. He placed both hands on his hips before turning around again and then he started to walk back up the runway. Realising that he was no longer smiling, Kyle aimed a grin in the general direction of the audience before making his way over to his fourth x. He turned again, even though his face was beginning to twitch with the effort of smiling, the host thanked him and Kyle hurriedly stepped off stage. As usual, Sheila was waiting for him.

“What was that?” she chastised, taking Kyle's hand and leading him out of the ballroom. “You barely smiled, you almost forgot your second turn and you didn't even look at the judges!”

“I can't see them, Ma.”

“I've told you where they are. I don't understand; you did just fine practising at home, but here it's like your putting in no effort at all.”

“I feel silly on stage.”

“Oh, nonsense! You looked wonderful up there!” When they arrived at their hotel room, Kyle changed into his talent wear outfit; his white school vest and shorts, lined with orange, with matching trainers. A matching sweatband wrapped around his forehead and he carried a basketball under his left arm. Sheila straightened out his clothes before they made their way back downstairs.

After his group line-up, Kyle waited backstage for his name to be called. Two of the other boys' sang, one danced and the other sang and danced.

Even though he loved basketball and was very talented at the sport, he still didn't want to do this. Kyle didn't have much time to dwell on his thoughts, for his name was called and he stepped onto the stage as the song “Get Ready for This,” by 2 Unlimited blared through the speakers. A basketball hoop was erected at one end of the stage.

Kyle paused on his first x, smiling at the judges. He then began to bounce the ball, swinging his legs over it, bending down and then standing back up again and the crowd cheered appreciatively.

Kyle then demonstrated a trick he had learnt at his basketball lessons in which he would stand on the spot and dribble the ball around his body, using only his arms to keep the ball moving; the coach had named the trick “around the world.”

Kyle dribbled the ball over to his second x, where he turned and looked at the audience. He took a step back, leaning on his left foot, and spun the ball on his finger and the crowd whooped. The ball didn't spin for as long as it was supposed to and Kyle very nearly dropped it.

The time limit for talent was two minutes and Kyle had already used half of his, so he went over to the fourth x, where the basketball hoop was and spun the ball on his finger again. It had taken him ages to learn how to do it and it was something he'd been meaning to learn for a while. The ball span for longer this time and Kyle grinned in relief.

Kyle then did a few set shots and jump shots, securing the ball in the net every single time. Catching the ball one final time, he turned to face the audience as instructed, panting slightly.

“Give it up for Kyle Broflovski! Thank you, Kyle,” encouraged Mr. Smith as Kyle stepped off stage, still panting.

“You did good,” she told him, enough praise in her voice to make Kyle grin in genuine delight. “Come on, we've got to get you changed.”

“But I thought that was it.”

“It is,” said Sheila as they marched through the ballroom. “Crowning takes place later on, and you can't be wearing that, can you?”

 

* * *

 

At 7:00pm, Kyle and Sheila were back in the ballroom, waiting for the crowning ceremony to begin. Kyle was back in his tux and was sitting next to his mother, not really paying attention until he heard the emcee calling for his group to line up on the stage and Sheila was already ushering him forward. Usually, the boys' would be crowned first according to their age groups, as it took less time than the girls', for they had more categories, more contestants, and therefore more awards.

As Kyle made his way backstage, a small blue and gold hand held trophy was pressed into his hands. Looking around, he saw that every other boy had one as well, and he supposed it was a participation award. He had always thought the idea of participation awards were ridiculous and had more than once referred to them as “pussy awards;” getting a trophy just for taking part wasn't a real award in Kyle's eyes. You either won or you didn't.

As the boys' lined up on stage, Mr. Smith waited for silence before he revealed the titles.

“Ladies and gentlemen, first we will announce the optionals for the seven-to-nine boys' group...” Kyle held onto his trophy and looked over at the emcee. “Your Best Dressed is... Joseph Lake!” The coiffed, tanned blonde whom Kyle had briefly spoken with stepped forward to the sound of applause as he was presented with a black and gold plaque. He then stepped back into the line. “Your Most Photogenic is... Kyle Broflovski!” Following Joseph's lead, Kyle stepped forward and was also presented with a plaque, almost dropping it as it was heavier than he expected.

When he was back in line, Mr. Smith announced the last of the optional titles, “your Best Personality is... Simon Hart!” Kyle hadn't seen Simon compete as he was fourth in the line up and they had always left after Kyle had competed. “Okay, your second runner up is... Tommy Jameson!” Tommy stepped forward and a medal was placed around his neck. “Your first runner up is... Joseph Lake!” Joseph was also presented with a medal, but the title of “Mini Mr Colorado” went to Simon Hart, and he received a small crown and a sash.

Kyle stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. When Mr. Smith beckoned them off stage, Kyle couldn't leave quick enough. He made his way back over to his mother and handed her the trophy and the plaque. Simon was still on stage, posing for photos, as all the winners did. It was only 7:15.

“You tired, bubbe?” Sheila asked and Kyle nodded silently. “How about we go upstairs, pack, and then we can sign out and go home?” Kyle nodded again.

“How did I do?” he asked once they were in their hotel room. He was wearing his usual orange coat and green trousers and his hat. His plaque was resting on his knees and he was reading it. “Little Miss and Mini Mr Colorado 2016 Boys 7 – 9 Divisional Photogenic,” was inscribed in black on the gold cover. He didn't feel like he had accomplished anything.

“You did okay. The other kids are trained; you're not,” Kyle nodded again, accepting the truth and placed the plaque in his mother's suitcase as she finished packing.

It took them a while to sign out of the hotel; most of the other mothers had had the same idea, but they managed to be on the road at 8:00pm, with Kyle wondering what he was going to say to Stan when he saw him tomorrow. Eventually, he decided that he wouldn't say anything; there was no point, he was never going to do another pageant and Kyle would never mention this weekend if he could help it.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it, bubbe?" asked Sheila as they drove down the motorway. Kyle's trophy were resting on the seat next to her. Kyle didn't answer. "How would you feel about doing another one?"

"No, thanks," said Kyle from the back seat.

"Why not?"

"I didn't really enjoy it," Kyle hesitated before answering.

"Well, it was only your first one. Think of this as a practice run."

"Ma, I don't wanna do anymore."

"I think you should; this is a great opportunity for you."

"But you said I only had to do one and if I didn't like it, then we could stop!"

"But you enjoyed it" Sheila cut him off before he could protest. "If you didn't like doing it, you wouldn't have won anything."

"But everyone gets a prize." Kyle told her.

"Yes, but you won _two_ prizes, didn't you? I think you enjoyed it more than you're letting on." Kyle didn't answer her and remained silent for the rest of the drive.

They arrived home an hour later when night had truly fallen. Gerald was watching his sports and Ike was asleep in bed. After he had greeted his wife and child, Kyle sat with him for a while as Sheila placed the trophy on the mantelpiece and rested the plaque next to it. Tomorrow, she would hang the plaque up.

“So, how was it?” Gerald asked his son while Sheila took the suitcases upstairs. He didn't really approve of pageants, especially when his own child was concerned.

“It was alright. I won a prize,” Kyle gestured to the trophy and plaque.

“Just alright?”

“It was really boring,” Kyle admitted. “Most of it was just sitting around. Mom wanted me to do another one, but I told her no.”

“Good. Well, it's getting late; you better get on up to bed.” Kyle agreed and hopped down off of the sofa and upstairs to the bathroom. The weekend had been one of the most surreal experience of his life. Of course, living in a place like South Park, he had had a lot of surreal experiences, but this had to be in his top ten. Never had he thought that he would compete in a beauty pageant, but he had, and he had no desire to do it again.

 

~ X ~

 

The next morning, Kyle was waiting at the bus stop when Stan approached him.

“Hey, dude, where were you all weekend? I kept trying to call.” As much as Kyle didn't want to lie to his super best friend, he did. There was that small chance that Stan might, just might, laugh at him.

“Oh, we had to go to this thing in Denver,” it was half the truth, the boy thought.

“What thing?”

“My dad had this lawyer thing – a conference or something like that – and we all went with him.” Thankfully, Stan seemed to accept this and did not push the subject.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Kenny and Cartman.

“'Sup, assholes?” greeted Cartman in his usual fashion and was promptly ignored.

On the bus to school, Stan filled Kyle in on what he had missed over the weekend; not much – Wendy and Bebe had fallen out again, over shoes or something this time but had made up on Sunday, and Shelley was being a real pain to Stan, due to her getting her braces tightened again.

Throughout this, Cartman kept interjecting that the reason Kyle had gone for the weekend was because he and his family were out digging for gold.

Kyle did his best to ignore his fat frenemy; he would rather let Cartman think that than really find out what he had gotten up to at the weekend.

 

* * *

 

 

Kyle had a blissful, ordinary two weeks in South Park. Well, about as ordinary as South Park could get; there was the start of a riot; thankfully it had been stopped before it had properly started, but no-one was too sure what had caused it; just that another episode of “Family Guy” had aired, and then the townspeople were up in arms about it. It all seemed to have been completely forgotten about by the next day.

Cartman had again been out fighting crime as his alter-ego “The Coon;” however, as there was little in the way of real crime to fight, he started giving villainous back stories to random strangers and using them as excuses for his 'vigilante justice.' That had earned him a grounding; not that Liane followed through with it and the Coon was back on the streets the next day.

 

However, one afternoon, Kyle returned home from school to find Sheila waiting for him.

“Hi, Mom,” he greeted as he stepped through the door.

“Hi, bubbe. It's time to get practising.” Kyle froze.

“For what?”

“For the pageant. I've entered you in the Little Miss Colorado pageant – don't worry, it's for boys', as well,” she added, misreading the look on Kyle's face.

“Ma, no!”

“What's wrong? I did this because I thought that you would enjoy it. I think you _did_ enjoy it.”

“You said I only had to do one!”

“I told you, that didn't really count; it was more of a practise one. This will be the real thing, and if you win an Overall or an Optional prize, you get your fee paid to the State pageant.” Kyle didn't understand half of what she said, but he knew that he didn't want to compete again.

“You said I only had to do one, and if I didn't like it, we wouldn't do anymore. I didn't like it,” he repeated, hoping she would listen.

“What? I didn't say that.” Kyle stared at her.

“Yes, you did. That's what you said when you entered me in the first one.”

“Well, I'm sorry, but I don't remember saying that. Now, let's get practising.”

“Mom, I don't want -”

“You will do as I say, Kyle!” she snapped and, of course, Kyle immediately hopped to attention.

The boy soon found himself back in the garage, practising his routines. This pageant had the same system as the previous one, with beauty wear, talent and casual wear. Again, Sheila had entered Kyle in all of the optional categories, to further improve his chance of winning.

“Keep the head up!” Sheila reminded him, watching her son like a hawk as he practised his beauty walk. “This is a preliminary pageant; if you win, you go onto the State finals!”

Kyle kept quiet as he ran through his routines over and over again. He knew he wouldn't win, he just knew, but he carried on practising to make his mother happy. He did love his mother, and he enjoyed it when she spent time with him, instead of protesting for him, which usually led to her being so caught up in what she was doing that she ended up ignoring him. Kyle was trying to think of another activity that they both enjoyed and they could do together, but he couldn't think of any. He decided to wait until Sheila's little pageant obsession had died down before asking her.

Sheila worked tirelessly to prepare Kyle for the pageant. Just as before, every day after school, Kyle would practise in the garage while she scrutinised him, wanting everything perfect. She had purchased the official footage of Kyle's performances and scrutinized the DVD along with her son.

“See what you did there?” she pointed to the screen as Kyle watched himself stumble as he turned. “You didn't turn properly. And, there, see, you didn't look at the judges, and you've got to smile the whole time you're on stage.”

Gerald kept quiet about the whole deal; like Kyle, he thought that the novelty would soon wear off, and once it did, it would be easier to reason with Sheila.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks later, on a Friday afternoon, both Sheila and Kyle were in the car on their way back to Denver to compete in the Little Miss Colorado pageant in Denver. Kyle had planned ahead and had his homework, his DS and some books with him, so he wouldn't be bored this time.

However, when they arrived, Sheila stayed downstairs after signing into the hotel and mingled with the other pageant parents. What she was hoping for, Kyle didn't know, and he buried his head in his DS, playing one of his “Terrence and Phillip” games.

They were in the ballroom where the pageant was to be held the following day, and the room was full of parents and children, some of them running around and playing with friends. One little girl was already practising on the stage, which was decorated in the same manner as the previous one. The air was filled with shrieks, whoops, giggles and chatter.

Sheila was engrossed in conversation with a lady who had a six-year-old daughter in the competition.

Kyle didn't speak to anyone, however; he absorbed himself with his video game, concentrating hard as it was a new one. He didn't want to be there, but he was going to have to compete and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

* * *

 

Just as before, Sheila and Kyle had an early night and they were up frightfully early the next morning because Sheila had to fix Kyle's hair.

Kyle was extremely grateful not to be a girl at that point in time; if he was, preparation would take three times as long. At least he didn't have to wear a hairpiece or fake nails and eyelashes or get spray tanned.

Kyle's hair seemed reluctant to take part in the pageant as well, for Sheila simply could not get the brush through it, even after she dampened it with water, her son's curls did not want to lie flat.

As a result, Kyle had to make do with a sort of curled coif, due to Sheila's many re-stylings.

“We'll just have to leave it like that,” she said, not looking very happy about it, applying some more hairspray onto Kyle's head. “Come on, or we'll be late,” and they both made their way down to the ballroom. Dressed in his tux, Kyle sat down next to his mother and pulled out his DS, turning the sound right down, as they waited for the pageant to begin.

The atmosphere seemed friendly enough, Kyle thought, pausing his game and observing. There were no wary parents looking for the competition, no attempts at sabotage, or arguments about who was going to win. Most of the little girls seemed to be friends with each other, as did the parents.

 

All too soon, it was time for Kyle to line up on stage with his age group. There were only two other boys in his group this time, and Kyle was the first in the line-up.

When his name was called, Kyle stepped on stage to the sound of polite applause. He had a better idea of what he was doing now, but he still felt self-conscious on stage and it showed. He hardly smiled and when he did, it wasn't genuine; he still hadn't perfected his walk or his turns and he didn't look at the judges.

“What was that?” Sheila criticized the moment Kyle stepped off stage. “You really need to start putting some effort into this. You're lucky this is only a preliminary; this won't wash at a State pageant!”

Kyle, knowing that arguing was pointless, remained silent as they headed back to their hotel room to get ready for the next event.

As it was a preliminary pageant, there was a rather large number of contestants; the preliminary competition was to whittle down participants for the State pageant. Given the frightfully low number of boys' in his age group, the possibility of Kyle winning and competing in the State pageant seemed more than likely. But then the boy remembered his unpolished performance and it seemed very likely that he would go home.

 

The next category was casual wear and Kyle was dressed in his shirt and trousers again. Just as before, he was clumsy and awkward on stage and he still couldn't keep his smile in place. Even though he had been practising smiling, he still was unable to hold it in place for more than thirty seconds. Once again, Sheila was unimpressed with his performance, but Kyle only wanted to get the pageant over with.

 

Kyle's last category was the talent category, which was to be held in the afternoon, with crowning taking place in the evening. His unique talent routine raised Sheila's hopes that Kyle would be scored particularly high, therefore helping to make him eligible for the State pageant. Of course, she knew he would be scored highly in the photogenic category; how could he not be? Sheila had used a photo of Kyle sitting at a table, his head resting in his hand and another one of Kyle's latest school photo, wild curls and all. The two photos were contrasting; one posed, one unposed, and Sheila thought that these particular photos let her son's natural charm shine through. She had used these photos for their previous pageant and Kyle had won Photogenic. Sheila couldn't imagine how he could not win this time.

 

Just as before, Kyle's talent routine went much better than his beauty and casual wear routines. This was the only part that he truly enjoyed, because he loved playing basketball. The audience clapped and cheered as Kyle spun the ball on his finger and secured the ball in the net every time. The other two boys both sang, so Kyle really stood out.

Sheila was pleased with Kyle's performance; it was his best, but there was still room for improvement; Kyle could stand to show a little more personality and make more eye contact with the judges, and she said this to her son the moment he stepped off stage. Kyle remained silent.

 

After Kyle had changed out of his basketball uniform, he and Sheila headed back down to the ballroom to watch the rest of the pageant. Well, Sheila did; Kyle had brought down his homework and his DS and he did his homework first. Maths, English and a spelling test were what he had to complete and he finished them all in no time at all.

By the time he was finished, the pageant was still going strong, so Kyle, bored, switched on his DS and began to play. The competition was finally over a few hours later, and after getting changed, the contestants all headed down to the outside pool, Kyle and Sheila included. Well, Kyle didn't know the hotel had a pool, so he hadn't brought his bathing suit, as had Sheila, so instead they (meaning Sheila) conversed with the competitors.

Kyle wouldn't have gone in the pool anyway; who knew the last time it was cleaned, not to mention the fact that people peed in there; along with that, Kyle pictured the makeup and the fake tan washing off and dyeing the water, and he physically cringed. You couldn't pay him to step in a public pool.

“Your son has a very unique talent act,” one mother praised Sheila, who grinned.

“Thank you. Your daughter is a wonderful dancer,” she returned the compliment; remembering the ten-year-old's energetic hip-hop dance routine.

“Oh, thank you so much. Is this your first pageant?”

“No, our second.”

“Ah. Little Hannah's been competing for seven years now.”

“Wow. I wish I'd started Kyle earlier,” Sheila admitted. Kyle wasn't listening to the conversation for he was talking with the other boys' in his age group. Just as he had felt earlier, it was a very friendly and relaxed atmosphere. The competitors seemed genuinely interested in one another, compliments on the others' performances were sincere and it seemed that there were no enemies, only friends.

Kyle had to admit that his whole perspective on the pageant scene was slowly changing; he had always imagined them to be horribly cut-throat affairs, with none of the parents talking to each other for fear of giving away secrets and tips, contestants determined to outdo one another and the children not wanting to compete in any way, shape or form. As far as Kyle could see, the only person that didn't want to compete in the pageant was he himself.

 

Back inside the hotel ballroom, Kyle was wearing his tux as the crowning ceremony commenced. The youngest age category for the pageant was the three-to-five age group. Kyle was in the next group up, six-to-eight and all too soon, his group was called up on stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we will first announce the winners of our Optional prizes for the boys' category six-to-eight,” announced the emcee, a middle aged blonde woman by the name of Miss Waring. “Your Best Dressed goes to... Nathan Swanson!” Nathan, a dark haired little boy stepped forward and was presented with a medallion. “Your Best Smile is... David Smith!” David, however, was given a plaque and a customised sash was draped over his shoulder. The boy's brown eyes gleamed with delight from underneath his sandy hair. “And your Most Photogenic is... Kyle Broflovski!” Following Nathan and David's lead, Kyle stepped forward and was presented with a plaque almost identical to the other one he had received and a sash was also placed over his shoulder. Looking out into the audience, Kyle spotted his mother; she pointed to her cheeks and smiled, indicating that Kyle should do the same and he did. He paused while the camera flashed and then he stepped back into line.

“And now for your Divisional Personality... Nathan Swanson!” Nathan stepped forward again and was presented with a sash and a trophy. “Your Divisional Talent winner is Kyle Broflovski!” Kyle froze before stepping forward; he hadn't expected that. Another sash was placed over the one he was already wearing and he was given a twelve-inch-high white and gold trophy adorned with jewels with three golden stars on the top, each one bigger than the one beneath it, and he struggled to balance both his heavy plaque and his trophy for a moment. Again, he hurriedly smiled for the camera, before stepping back, blinking the lights out of his eyes.

David won “King,” and was awarded a crown and trophy. “And your, King, David Smith! Remember, all of our Division winners will have their fee to the State pageant paid! Give it up for your six-to-eight boys'! Great job, guys!”

Kyle struggled off stage due to his two long sashes and made his way over to his mother.

“I can't believe you won your talent!” she beamed as Kyle removed his banners. “Do you even know what that means? Your entry fee to the State pageant will be paid!”

“And what's the State pageant?” asked Kyle warily.

“A bigger version of this one. The standards are higher, so we've really got to knuckle down and practise.”

~ X ~

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that was the second chapter. What do you think? Let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, that's the first chapter done. What do you think?
> 
> I would just like to mention that I am in no way implying that all pageant parents are like Sheila; this is simply how I would imagine her to be. I think she can be quite manipulative.


End file.
